


Dodge This

by GalacticAesir



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Author Doesn't Know How Hospitals Work, Fluff, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, School Shootings, dodgeball - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticAesir/pseuds/GalacticAesir
Summary: or "Three Things Danny Fenton Failed to Dodge in Time"





	Dodge This

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the lovely grimwoode
> 
> And thank you to gravityfallsaugalore on Tumblr for inspiring this!

1.

 

The students of Casper High stood in awe at the scene in the gymnasium before them. On one side stood the star players of the football team. On the the other were the three losers of the school, none other than Sam Manson, Tucker Foley and Danny Fenton. The name of the game was dodgeball and the incredible thing was that the losers were _winning._

The class had started like any other gym class, with Danny changing in the locker room alone and resigning himself to another day of humiliating torture by Dash. When he ran out of the locker room he was pleasantly surprised to find that he’d been picked team leader by Ms. Tetslaff. I mean, sure he was going up against Dash but since he, Sam and Tucker were always picked last in gym they would always get separated. At least now they could play as a team. The teams were picked and the game began.

It was a normal game with both teams losing and gaining players though Dash’s side was clearly winning. It went along, players dodging and catching and dying until the loser trio were left on their side with nearly the entirety of Dash’s team left intact. Most of the out students on Danny’s team assumed a lost but still they watched. At the very least Dash would probably trash the nerd and that would made for a good laugh.

“2 o’clock Danny!” Tucker screamed.

“11!” Sam yelled.

Two balls flew in the air, tossed hard and fast by the star throwers. The red balls blurred moving faster than the audience could react but Danny, with an impressive amount of speed, dodged the balls. The two balls hit the walls on the other side of the court and Tucker and Sam were now armed. The crowd gasped. How did he do that?

Danny grinned, a rare confidence setting in the usually meek kid’s features.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to hit me.”

And so the real game started.

Sam and Tucker stayed at the far end calling whatever attacks they could on Danny (because _of course_ Dash would instruct his team to wipe the smile off of Fenturd’s face and ignore the other two) and moving in for attacks once the ball hit their side of the court. They knocked down A-listers like it was their mission. Sam threw her shots with the same zealous energy she usually reserved for protests. She went for the big players, slinging the balls violently at the opposing team with surprising strength.

“Aw she’s protecting her boyfriend!” someone in the crowd awed.

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

Tucker meanwhile, would hold onto his shot for longer. What the geek lacked in power he made up in strategy. He went for the weak players, the ones who thought they were safe at the back. He waited for an opening and took it when it presented itself. He threaded the needle between the players and always got his mark. He could almost hear the sweet, sweet “EXP Gained!” jingle at every successful hit.

But Danny, he was the one who captivated the audience--all eyes were on him. His hair wisped in the air as he glided across the gymnasium floor, feet barely seeming to touch the ground as he sidestepped and rolled and dodged out of the way. And he did it grinning, not even breaking a sweat. He moved fast almost seeming to phase through the balls as they passed him by a hair’s width. He joked and laughed, riling up the other team even as he ducked and dodged.

“My grandma throws better than you!”

“What were you shooting at? The moon?”

“No wonder the Ravens lost the last three games! You guys can’t hit the broadside of a barn!”

What’s more is that he eventually began leading the balls to his friends. He’d leave himself open and dodge the ball at the last second and have it come barrelling right into Tucker or Sam’s waiting arms.

The rest of Danny’s team decided to stay on the sideline, feeling they would just end up getting in the way. They cheered and laughed in disbelief. Even coach Tetslaff was impressed! Tucker complained so much during gym you’d believe exercise would kill him. Sam, though athletic, thought the class was pointless and didn’t give any effort in it. But Danny, he couldn’t do a full circuit without collapsing at the beginning of the year and now here he was running and jumping and dodging _and wow did he just do a flip_ like he could do it all day long.

Even Dash’s out teammates were cheering on the losers. The gathered crowd “ooh”ed and gasped whenever Danny dodged or did a feint in order to lead the ball to his teammates. That cinched it for Dash. There was no way he would recover A-lister status if he lost this game. It was time to play a little dirty. The game was never going to last forever.

Kwan went down a little bit too easy but the trio didn’t notice it. They also didn’t notice him move through the crowd and whisper something into Star’s ear.

“GHOST!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Body bursting with the energy and adrenaline usually reserved for ghost fights, Danny ducked another volley as Star cried out. High strung, senses on alert, he stopped dead in his tracks, his head snapped at the noise.

“Where?”

There was laughter in the crowd. Everyone knew Danny Fenton was afraid of ghosts.

Danny tilted his head, a question on his face. He didn’t see Dash winding his arm back. Only when the crowd’s eyes shifted from him did he turn around… right in time to see the dodgeball an inch from his face.

He yelped, the squishy ball hit like a punch to the face and knocked him straight down on the gymnasium floor.

“Haha! Dodge that Fenturd!”

 

2.

 

Back in English class, Danny nursed his aching face with a pout. Dash’s suckerpunch left a bright red imprint on his face. It stung, but the giggling a few seats back from the A-listers somehow stung more. He folded his arms over his desk and tried to hide his face, wishing desperately that he could just phase through the floor and disappear. If he wasn’t as keen about keeping his powers a secret he’d actually do it.

He’d been so close to getting one over on Dash too! Oh, well. It was probably for the best, he thought as Mr Lancer came in through the door. After all, a scrawny loser could never be Phantom. No matter how much it chipped at his pride.

The last of the class trickled in and Mr Lancer started his lecture and Danny could follow along for once. Last night he’d somehow managed to, not only, get home before his curfew but miraculously also had time to catch up on his homework. He was still a few chapters behind in _Cue for Treason_ but he found himself actually liking the book. He understood Kit’s situation though his alter ego was a bit more… ghostly in nature.

The lack of ghost he’d faced last night was concerning. It was the calm before some massive ghost storm or whatever nonsense that would surely come to ruin his life in a bit, but for now he’d take full advantage of it.

The class moved on at its regular, dreary pace. Danny took down the notes for the later chapters and Mr Lancer seemed pleasantly surprised to see him attentive for once. He’d even given him a small smile as he passed. Danny was kind of weirded out.

Of course, that was the time a siren began blaring through the intercom and honestly Danny should have expected it because days couldn’t just be _normal_ now could they?

Startled, Danny jumped a foot in the air. His knees hit his desk with a bang as everyone turned to the intercom and listened. What was that? He didn’t sense a ghost nearby and that wasn’t the fire alarm. The students immediately began murmuring about phantoms and ghosts and “not again”s before Ashley spoke up from her seat.

“That’s not the ghost alarm…”

Nods of agreement and worried whispers followed and Danny turned to look at his friends. He shook his head at their silently mouthed “is it a ghost?” They looked worried. Ghosts they could face but something felt off about this.

The intercom buzzed in before they could start brainstorming a way to get out of the class and a calm, automated female voice began speaking. The classroom listened with rapt attention.

“Casper High School is currently on lockdown. All students and faculty members should barricade themselves in their classrooms and wait until an Amity Park official comes to open the door. I repeat,” the eerie voice droned on.

The students were taken back, listening to the warning again because they must have heard wrong. A lockdown? Like, some guy with a gun, here? In Amity Park? That was something for big cities. The students reeled as their teacher swore and dived for the door.

“Everyone! Get to the back wall of the class! Now!” he yelled as he slammed the door shut but a hand came up from the other side and forced it back open before he could turn the lock. Lancer struggled with the door but the man on the other side gave it a hard shove. The man stepped inside and in one smooth movement smashed the butt of his rifle against the teacher’s nose.

The teacher screamed, stumbling backwards and cupped a hand around his bleeding nose. He placed himself between the man and his students, who stood stock still in shock.

All eyes were on the man who just entered. Danny couldn’t help but think the man looked familiar though he couldn’t pinpoint from where. He had unkempt brown hair and a scraggly beard. His eyes were brown, ruling out possession. His clothes looked dirty and worn, like he hadn’t taken them off in days. He probably hadn’t. In fact, Danny could smell the stench from where he stood. But what really had their attention was the large, and now bloodstained, semi automatic rifle he held nonchalantly in his hands. He swept the room with it and the students cowered.

“Everyone back against the wall. Side to side,” the shooter said in a gruff voice. Like gravel and smoke.

“Do as he says,” Mr Lancer said through his broken nose. He didn’t lose eye contact with the man even as he motioned his students to the wall.

The students, still in shock, were motionless. The shooter tipped his gun to the ceiling and fired, raining bits of ceiling tile as broken lights spurted and crackled. It sent them running until a mass of screaming and crying teenagers stood trembling at the far wall.

The man had the audacity to laugh. “Aha, that’s more like it. Move it gramps,” he said to Lancer who was still trying to stay between the shooter and his students. He got a barrel jammed in his chest for his effort and was forced to move. The gunman shoved the teacher to the wall and began walking down the line, breaking up scared groups of friends who were clutched together. Backs against the wall, no talking and hands where he could see ‘em, he instructed. Easier to see if anyone was going to try any funny business.

Danny had caught his teacher’s gaze as he passed. There was a familiar look in his eyes. One that Danny understood too well. I wish I could do more, it said. The boy’s clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

If anyone had bothered to look they might have noticed that Danny, Sam and Tucker had been a bit more subdued than their peers. They’d been in a few too many life threatening situations to not have a level head. Still, they’d never been in a hostage situation before. Their extra credit ghost hunting never prepared them for this. So many things could go wrong. So many people could get hurt. As they were shuffled into place, Danny managed to give both his friends a pointed look. He’d be ready to reveal his powers if it meant keeping everyone safe. They replied with a concerned frown and a nod. They understood, Danny would always put people’s lives before his secret.

The shooter sat on a desk and kept his gun trained on them. He flashed a smile at them, bright white teeth gleaming in the fluorescent lights.

“Well, my little hostages. I think we’ll be here for a bit of a wait. Small time police won’t do shit until a negotiator gets here. Which gives me plenty of time to find out which one of you would give me the biggest bang for my buck,” the shooter explained calmly, laughing a bit at his own little joke. Then he pursed his lips, factors adding up in his brain. “Then again, they’ve been looking for me. Might take ‘em no time at all.”

His gaze swept across them critically. He could have looked like he was buying a car, leveraging pros and cons and options in his head. Like chest pieces on a board, finding out which one of them would make the next best move. He’d seen those eyes before. Vlad. Danny had to concentrate and _force_ the green out of his, he was boiling over in rage. Vlad had those same eyes. The shooter wasn’t some crazed madman. This was a man with all his sanity that just didn’t care. He knew that he hurt people and killed people and he just didn’t care. A carelessness and apathy so bone deep that led him to believe that he could play with other people’s lives if he wanted because his goals were more important. The ghost boy wanted to pummel him into the ground.

He could feel Sam and Tucker tense up beside him, they could sense the sudden chill and the lights flickering wildly overhead. It was enough to ground him. To remind him that there were other people here and playing hero might not get everyone out safely. Instead of going ghost, Danny gave the man the hardest glare he could muster and watched him like a hawk.

The man’s gaze finally landed on Dash, a predatory grin on his lips.

“Hey I know you,” he said. “Saw you on the cover of the paper this morning. Star quarterback right?”

Dash couldn’t make his mouth form words so the man continued for him. “Known by most of the people in town I’m assuming. Maybe a bit of a town hero? Paper seemed to think so anyways. High profile. You’ll do.”

The students gasped and Dash backed up farther into the wall, stumbling over his words along the way. Lancer instinctively went to stand in front of his student but the gun flicked to him. The class stilled.

“No funny business Teach,” he said before turning to face Dash, gun still aimed at Lancer. “This is how it’s gonna go down, Dash, is it? When he cops get here, you and I are gonna go out and have a nice little chit chat with them. You’ll be a good little hostage and do exactly what I’ll tell you to do and you won’t open your damn mouth for anyone, got it?”

Dash’s mouth finally started working but what came out nearly got the trio to facepalm out of sheer disbelief.

“I’m not going with you,” he mumbled out. While there was no bravado behind it, it certainly wasn’t what the shooter was expecting.

He barked a laugh. “Relax. I’m not going to kill you. You’re more useful to me alive than dead.”

For some reason that spurred the bully back to his usual egotistical self. He smirked, arms folded and chest puffed out in his typical alpha male stance.

“Ha! You just said that you won’t kill me. So why should I go with you? You can’t do anything to any of us.”

The shooter’s smile fell and a dark looked crossed his eyes. A slow sweep pointed the rifle on Dash. “Never said anything about not hurting you though.”

It happened in a moment but Danny was in front of Dash before the man pulled the trigger. The ghost boy had trained himself to be ready at a moment's notice whenever ghosts showed up, he was ready to bolt the moment Dash opened his big, stupid idiot mouth. The idiot in question flinched behind him and the students cried out as the shot was fired.

Danny had been shot, stabbed, electrocuted and slammed into all manner of walls, buildings and roads but this marked the first time he’d been shot with a regular gun in his human form. It was the worst pain he’d ever felt. Pain erupted from his shoulder like a hot iron, hot and searing. His mind went blank, he couldn’t think, couldn’t move the only thing he was aware was the awful overwhelming pain. He cried out as the force of the blast sent him stumbling into Dash who cried out behind him. Had he gotten shot too?

The thought brought him out of his daze in time to hear footsteps and a hand grab the front of his shirt. He cried out again as the hand thrust him forward and jarred his shoulder. His hand flew up to protect it and he felt blood gushing under his fingertips.

“Aw, thought we’d be a hero huh?” the man said an inch from his face. “Fine then, I’ll show you wha -Oof!”

Danny, face squinting in pain, had seen his opening. He propped his foot on the nearest chair and using that as leverage, pushed upwards into a mean uppercut. The man was sent falling backwards, losing his grip on Danny and his gun. The young boy winced as he landed on his feet. He ran, wasted no time dashing for his backpack only for an iron hard grip to clasp his ankle and send him crashing onto some desks. He cried out as he landed on his bad shoulder and another wave of pain overwhelmed him. He coughed and cried out as the man came up and kicked him in the ribs before going to pick up his gun. A whimper made it past his lips but he plowed on towards his desk.

Danny reached it and yanked the backpack off his seat. His shoulder protested loudly as he began rummaging through it.

“Comeoncomeoncomeon,” he muttered, hand only falling on papers and books.

A shadow moved over him and the boy looked up. It had only taken a few strides for the shooter to reach him.

“I’m going to ruin you.”

Even with his powers there was no way to dodge in time. He twitched his leg upwards as the man pulled the trigger. The near blank range shot tore through his shin and sent Danny howling in pain. Blood and bone fragments splattered but the ghost boy grit his teeth and smiled a grimace. His hand found what he was looking for. With effort, he pulled the thing out of his backpack and threw.

The shooter’s face scrunched up in confusion as he saw the thing. It looked kind of like a grenade, a silver grey ball of metal with blue circles dotting its sides. Anyone in Amity Park would have been able to deduce it was a Fenton Works design. It sailed through the air and hit the shooter square in the chest. As soon as contact was made, metal tentacles zipped out of the blue circles and wrapped itself around the man, immobilizing him. Once he began to struggle the tentacles began gushing a light blue fluid from holes in theirs sides. The liquid solidified almost instantly and before he could react the man was cocooned in the stuff.

The man struggled, his face the only thing that wasn’t encased in the hardened goop.

“What the fuck is this?!”

“The Fenton Phantom Bolas. Patent pending,” Danny quipped through his teeth.

“Danny!”

Sam and Tucker yelled and sprang into action. Tucker shoved desks aside as Sam rifled through her pack for their medkit, it had been a blessing on those few occasions where they’d taken a nasty spill. Gently, Sam placed Danny’s head onto a backpack and her quick and nervous fingers began sorting through the bandages in their medkit. Sam was frazzled trying to find _something_ to staunch the blood. In the end, Tucker sacrificed his shirt.

It was shirtless that Tucker remembered something. He looked back to see the class staring fearfully at the still screaming shooter.

“Hey, um, don’t worry everyone, he’s stuck in there for good,” he piped up shoving a thumb in the shooter’s direction. “Danny got stuck in that thing last week and it took the Fentons two hours to chip him out.”

It didn’t seem to put the class at ease but Mr Lancer trusted the Fentons’ inventions enough to assume it would hold. He ordered his students to stay calm and stay far away from the trapped gunman as he walked over to the trio. It was still nursing his bloodied nose that Lancer knelt besides his most troubled student.

“Canterville Ghost! Daniel, what were you thinking? Ms Manson, pass me that medkit.”

“Aha, is that a trick question?” the teen grunted as Lancer and Sam began dressing his wounds. Sam was secretly glad Mr Lancer was there to guide her. Her heart was pounding in her chest and a lump formed in her throat at the sight of so much blood on her best friend. They had never been too badly injured during their ghost hunting. Danny made sure to take most of the hits and his weird ghost constitution tended to absorb the damage like a sponge, leaving human Danny drained but physically unharmed. Their ghost hunting and high school level first aid did not prepare them for gunshot wounds. She calmed her breathing and did as Lancer instructed.

Tucker, sensing he’d only get in the way of Lancer and Sam decided he had a score to settle. He got up, went to Dash’s gym bag and began ruffling through it. The stunned football star barely gave a complaint as Tucker pulled out his sweaty gym socks. The geek marched over to the shooter’s trapped form, still screaming insults and threats and some rather indecent jeers at the teenagers at the far end of the class. He stopped as he saw Tucker walk up. What he said didn’t bare mentioning but Tucker smiled through it. Sure, he didn’t have super powers but that didn’t mean he couldn’t avenge Danny in some way. He took the socks and shoved them into the man’s mouth.

Tasting jock juice, the man immeadiately began to gag. He struggled to spit the horrid thing out but found himself unable. His face reddened with effort and he began screaming his head off. Barely a mumble came out.

Someone giggled and another joined and then another. Then the entire class erupted into a hearty laughter at the sight. Lancer and Sam looked up from their ministrations and joined in. Tucker saw Danny shake with silent laughter and give him a thumbs up. And though everyone was still reeling from shock and trauma, the horrible tension that hung overhead was lifted.

“Nice one Tuck,” the injured boy rasped as Tucker came to his side again.

Tucker offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Danny looked awful. He was hard to look at, covered in blood and half formed bruises. He was pale from blood lost, skin nearly reaching his ghostly tint and it did nothing but accentuate the semi-permanent bags under his eyes leaving him looking hollow. Every shallow breath drew out a small whine, his chest heaving his effort. He looked haggard and small. Fragile almost. Tucker was rattled at the thought of his best friend dying for a second time in front of him. His vision blurred as he latched onto Danny’s wrist to feel the pulse underneath.

Blue eyes snapped up to meet his gaze, then travelled to Sam who carried a similar worried expression, her eyes watery and lips trembling.

“Stop,” he paused to breath. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Look at you like what?” Sam asked softly.

“Like I’ve already got a foot in the grave.”

There was a pause. The corner’s of Danny’s mouth twitched up.

“DANNY!”

Before stretching into a full shit eating grin. He wheezed out a laugh as his friends groaned besides him, mortal peril completely forgotten. It hurt to laugh, every laugh jostling his wounds and ribs, but it was worth it. He couldn’t help himself, not with that perfect of an opening.

Mr Lancer looked lost.

“Was that a joke Mr Fenton? You’ve been shot and you’re making jokes?”

Sam spoke up before Danny could say another ghostly-alter-ego-comprising pun, “Danny says jokes when he’s in shock.”

“‘M not in shock.”

Sam gave Mr Lancer a pointed look.

“I’d be more surprised if you weren’t Daniel,” the teacher said getting up. “I’ll go get help, we can’t wait until the police come to open the door. Are you three sure he can’t get out?”

The trio nodded. Danny hissing in pain as he apparently forgot he’d been shot.

“Stop moving!” Sam scolded him.

“Do whatever Ms Mason says Fenton. Tucker, help Dash out with his wound,” he said to the trio then turned to the rest of the class. “I don’t want anyone antagonising Mr Durlopp here. Stay calm, I’ll just be stepping out to call the police. Do not leave this room. Star, you’re in charge.”

Their teacher took off but the students were put at ease. If the teacher was barking orders then everything was under control. Tucker brought Dash to Sam’s side to fix his wound, seemed like the bullet went right through Danny and embedded itself into Dash. The bully was looking at Danny with an indescribable expression, emotions mixed and unsure.

“You took a shot for me. You got yourself shot with a bullet to protect me. Me,” he said lamely.

Danny smiled, small and genuine and relieved. “All in a day’s work.”

 

3.

 

Daniel James Fenton rested peacefully on the hospital bed, or rather, as peacefully as he could with a neck brace, a catheter and the steady, slow _beep beep beep_ of the machine monitoring his heartbeat. It had been a long day.

Danny had fainted sometime in between getting put on the gurney and the ride to the hospital. He’d only woken up after the surgery to a distressed family. His mom and dad were crying tears of joy and it took every ounce of their self control to not just jump up and hold their boy and make sure nothing ever happened to him ever again. It was a bit embarrassing, how much they fussed, but Danny was too tired to put up the angsty teenager act. He cried along with them and held their hand with his good arm because it was all he could do with his left arm and neck immobilised. He didn’t even have the energy to cringe as his sister kissed his forehead, eyes brimming with relief and tears and worry. His parents switched between yelling at the shooter, yelling at Danny for doing something so stupid and beaming with pride.

They fretted and doted after him as the doctor explained his condition. Danny couldn’t follow the ten mile long medical terms though Jazz certainly listened attentively as the doctor droned on about nearly missed axillary arteries and blood loss and bradycardia. Jazz and mom could explain him the technobabble in layman’s terms some other time. One thing he did hear was “extended rest period” and boy, did that sound good.

But before he could sleep he needed to know what happened and his parents and sister were more than willing to give him the whole story. He’d been too out of it when they’d wheeled him around the school property on a gurney but the combined forces of the local police and national SWAT team had the school surrounded. Apparently the shooter, named Stanley Durlopp, was an escaped criminal with multiple charges of murder and armed robbery under his belt. He’d escaped from a prison bus after his trial and had made his way to Amity Park after an extended manhunt. The coverage had been playing everyday for weeks on every news channel but Danny, too tired from his ghostly encounters, hadn’t paid all that much attention to the bulletins. The man had been at the end of his rope and figured a risky hostage situation might get him the clean slate he wanted but now the police now had him in custody, all thanks to Fenton Works and Danny’s quick thinking.

Meanwhile, the school had been shut down for the day and the next. Principle Ishiyama had decided to let all the students and the faculty spend time with their friends and family as they dealt with the trauma of what could have been a grave episode. Only Danny, Mr Lancer and Dash had gotten hurt. They’d both been in the ambulance behind Danny. Mr Lancer had his nose rearranged properly though he’d have a crooked nose for the rest of his life and Dash got the bullet extracted from his shoulder. It hadn’t gotten far, barely went through a quarter inch, but he’d still needed stitches for it. Sam and Tucker hadn’t gotten hurt but they hadn’t been able to visit him either seeing as the only visitors allowed to see him now were immediate family. Thankfully, Jazz ferried messages between the teens. She let them know that Danny was safe and reassured her little brother that they would all hold down the fort while he recovered.

After learning that everyone had made it out alright and that the day was saved (and would continue to be saved), Danny finally let himself get hit with the full exhaustion the day had brought. Or it might have been the painkillers and sedatives. But either way he was sore and tired and drained by the time his family were ushered away by the nurse. A distant and enthusiastic “goodnight son!” from far down the hallway brought a smile to his face.

It didn’t take long after that for him to fall asleep. His ghost fights left him emotionally and mentally drained but this physical, human hurt was a different kind of exhaustion. His body felt heavy and cumbersome and his eyelids drooped and dropped, unable to fight the sleep his body desperately needed. He slept without dreaming, snoring softly. His doctor had said he’d be tired for a few days due to the massive amount of blood he lost and how it was best to sleep and rest for as long as he could.

The doctor hadn’t taken ghostly stalkers with a grudge under account though.

Danny shivered as he slept, cold fighting off the sedatives, and he woke up seeing his breath. He couldn’t move but he spotted the eerie glow of a ghost outside the hospital window. Outside of it, Skulker was looking at him with a perplexed expression which fixed itself once the hunter noticed his prey was awake. He phased through the window and peered at him.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here whelp?”

“Skulker. Here for my pelt again I’m assuming?” His tone was flippant and flat. If anything the boy sounded annoyed.

Danny knew he should have been scared, helpless as he was, and it might have been the painkillers but he just couldn’t be bothered by it. Even when the ghost slowly loomed over him, taking in the massive amounts of machinery plugged into him.

“I was,” the ghost said with that same echo he’d come to associate with the Ghost Zone. “But now I’m curious.”

Figuring it might get the ghost out of his hair Danny started.

“Some guy came into our school and tried to take our class hostage. Then an idiot opened his big mouth and got the guy mad. I took the shot for him,” he waved at himself with his good arm. “And here I am.”

The ghost seem to ponder Danny’s multiple wounds, no doubt filling out the rest of the story that Danny skipped over. He floated in place near the foot of Danny’s cot.

“Did you capture him?”

Danny puffed a laughed. “‘Course I did.”

The ghost shook his head, “You are a worthy opponent, ghost boy, but your morals make you weak. Look at you, you’re utterly helpless!”

He scoffed and made to phase back outside.

That got Danny's attention. “Hey where are you going? Aren’t you going to, you know, try and kill me and put me on your mantelpiece?”

Skulker laughed. “I can’t possibly hang a pelt with so many injuries on them! It would be unsightly, not to mention the mark it would put on my reputation! No, ghost boy, I hunt you for the thrill of the sport. You’re no use to me like this. I guess I’ll just need to wait until you heal to hunt you again.”

Before he could say anything the specter flew away with a final “until next time whelp!”

Danny was, to put it mildly, horribly confused. What was the guy’s angle? He was definitely faking. That macho laugh at the end there wasn’t fooling anyone but what could he be hiding?

He mulled it over for a bit but the exhaustion won over in the end. Besides, he thought as his eyelids drooped further and further down, Team Phantom could deal with whatever mischief the ghost had planned for now. Content that Amity Park was still safe, he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Danny was cleared for release the day after. The doctor explained to his parents that he wasn’t allowed to do any strenuous activity for three weeks and they recommended bed rest for the first week. Though the doctor said that knowing full well that it probably wasn’t going to happen. When she had walked in that morning to check up on the teen and she’d found that his friends had somehow gotten past security and were racing down the hallway in the boy’s wheelchair. The boy's father, because the parents had walked in at the same time as the doctor, had whooped with the kids and suffice to say the whole lot of them had been banned from touching the thing. At the very least the doctor hoped his sister and mother would get the boy to stay out of trouble. Exciting morning aside, the boy did perk up when she ordered bed rest, looking at her like she’d just given him the world. Maybe there was hope for his recovery after all.

Back home in his bed, the ghost boy was ready to get a head start on that week of sweet, blissful sleep but of course he had hovering parents and a worried sister to deal with first. Their concern was endearing but now that he was home and safe he thought they were going a little overboard with the whole overprotective shtick.

Once they’d been fended off for the time being, Danny finally got a ghost report of last night. Sam and Tucker and Jazz found that there hadn’t been that many ghosts out. It seemed nothing changed much from the previous days though it was still concerning. Hopefully the dry spell would last until he’d healed up.

They all left eventually. Sam and Tucker left to spend time with their shaken parents. Jazz left to find some psychology books at the library that she would no doubt use to psychoanalyze Danny for his latest misadventure. His mom and dad eventually left for their nightly ghost patrols and locked the door behind them. With no distractions or noises he slept peacefully, glow in the dark stars on his ceiling finding their way into his dreams.

Up until a sound exploded near his head.

He woke up with a start and a yell. The noise was unbearably loud, right at his ears, and he nearly popped the stitches in his neck as he turned to see what it was. He let loose another yell at the sight of the scene before him.

“What are you doing in my room?!”

“What’s it look like I’m doing, sugarpop?” Ember smiled and licked a few amplified notes on her guitar that sent Danny’s ear ringing. “Playing you a lullaby.”

She grinned and tore another rift, laughing like a chorus as she floated up higher to the ceiling. Danny clamped his hands over his ears, pain and noise blossoming into a headache. He did spot the amplifier though and stretched out of his bed to unplug the rock star's guitar. The “music” still played.

“Aw, you didn’t like that song? How ‘bout his one!” Another heavy punk rift blasted over the amplifier.

“No use ghost boy!” Technus shouted over the “song”. “I’ve upgraded it! Wireless! The way of the future!”

Danny’s head snapped to where the ghost was hunched over his console.

“Hey! That thing’s already broken, don’t make it worse!” he yelled, then paused. There were much more important things to yell about. “What are you even doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he boasted loudly, and man he really wasn’t helping that headache either. “We are here to disrupt any chance you have to ‘heal’”. Then we will be free to take over the world without you glitching up our plans!”

Something about that statement jumped out at him.

“We?” he gulped, desperately hoping he was right. “As in ‘I, Technus and Ember’?”

Ember smiled evilly at him. “No way, Danny boy. We’re all here. How ‘bout you come join the party downstairs?

She hooked her arms around his chest and phased him to the kitchen. It was pure chaos. Pure, unbridled chaos.

The Lunch Lady was making a mess of his mom’s kitchen, little green demon boxes were chopping down on whatever Box Ghost was throwing at them, Kitty and Johnny were doing donuts around the coffee table in the living room. There was Youngblood jumping on the couch, Cujo chewing on Dad’s armchair, brainless ecto goop monsters racing around the house and some skeletons playing ping pong on the kitchen table with one of his parents’ inventions.

“What?!” Danny almost popped a vein and definitely popped some stitches, his voice climbing octaves as his hysteria rose. All these ghosts, almost everyone he’d ever fought, in his house and he didn’t even have his ghost powers. There were no words for the deep fear he felt as he watched them thrash his house.

Johnny came over and drove his motorcycle in circles around him.

“Surprised, punk? What do you think would happen after Skulker came back with the news?” he laughed. “Party at Phantom’s house! And you can’t do anything to stop us!”

“And we’re gonna make sure it stays that way!” Kitty laughed as Johnny revved his motorcycle and began driving on the walls and ceiling, angry black tire tracks left in his wake.

Danny took a shaky step forward and would have fallen over if Shadow hadn’t come out of nowhere and scared him, sending him tumbling backwards into a chair. It hovered in the air before seating him at the kitchen table. Lunch Lady set a bowl of… something in front of him. It was green and it boiled from within.

“Of course not!” the old lady shouted, green and monstrous, at the biker. Her voice and face turned sweet when she faced Danny. “We’re here to help you! And everyone knows chicken noodle soup is the best way to get better. Besides, you’re thin, boy. You need some MEAT on you!”

As she ranted one of the boiling bubbles burst and a tiny little ghost came out of it screeching. It floated into the ceiling and disappeared.

“Ummm. No thanks,” he said getting up.

He tried to fight them off, he truly did, but he limped on the set of crutches his mom left on the table and could never get to them quick enough. They’d just float up to the ceiling and keep doing whatever horrible, messy thing they were doing before. He wasn’t even a minor inconvenience to them like this! Some just floated around laughing at him and when he finally decided he’d use his parents weapon it was only to discover that the Box Ghost had already fed them all to his stupid feral boxes. He’d even taken the damn phones! A red blush crept up his face as frustration built up inside his chest. His stitches stung, his ribs and leg ached and he was just so goddamn tired. With every jeer and insult he felt himself getting closer and closer to losing it, until the feeling of helplessness swelled inside his core. The lights flickering around him went utterly unnoticed by the teen.

“ALRIGHT! THAT’S IT!” he yelled, finally having enough. He smashed his crutch down on the linoleum floor, punctuating his words. The ghosts turned their heads, finally paying attention to him. “I have two weeks where I don’t have to deal with any of you! Just two fucking weeks where I can sleep in peace! That’s all I’m asking for! So stop messing with me and GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

Every door and drawer in the house slammed shut at his words, though the ghost boy didn’t notice it. His eyes were blazing green and every ghost in the house felt the sheer power behind his half-formed shout.

A pause. A picture frame fell off the wall.

“Does that mean we can’t prank your parents?”

“Ghost Zone! Basement! NOW!”

Surprisingly, all the ghosts seem to deflate at that and started moving towards the basement. Huh. He didn’t think that would have worked. The Box Ghost sighed and tossed one of his parent's invention over his shoulder.

“No wait!”

The ghosts paused on their way to the portal to watch the chain reaction unfold. The invention hit the floor and fired an ecto beam at the ceiling. It ricocheted off the non-ghost surface and began ping ponging between the walls. The ghost skeletons cheered and resumed their game as the ghost boy tried to stop them, the beam hit the skeletons and they were sent careening away. Lunch Lady’s stew went flying and sent ghosts running only to knock into the feral boxes who spat out their contents into the air. All ghosts managed to dodge in time but the ghost boy, still on crutches took the brunt of the kitchenware and gadgets and was sent sprawling to the floor.

Pain exploded in his shoulder and leg once again. Danny whimpered and threw off the whisks and ecto guns off of himself, each toss sending another wave of pain until he collapsed back onto the floor. He was so sick of feeling helpless in front of his enemies. Shame burned at his eyes.

“I just wanted to sleep!” he yelled.

“You want?” said a voice.

Danny opened his eyes. Desiree. Oh no.

“Enh, well, close enough.”

“Nononono wait!” She snapped his fingers.

And Danny went out like a light.

The ghosts had themselves a good laugh at the expense of the snoozing halfa. Kitty and Johnny grabbed him and floated him up to his bed, Ember trailing behind strumming a low bass version of _Rock-a-bye Baby_. Technus had finished fixing Danny’s busted console by the time they tucked him in. Lunch Lady came up and set a real bowl of chicken noodle and ginger tea on his bedside table and the Box Ghost made sure to clean up the mess they’d made downstairs.

Because, yeah sure, he was their enemy. The pesky little half ghost kid went around using his powers for good and got into everyone’s way. But for all their fights, he’d also been the most fun any of them had ever had since dying. So yeah, they’d tease him and not hold back the next time they fought but, for now, a truce. As much fun as haunting humans was, little Phantom getting in their way was so much better, almost as good as living.

Danny would wake up unsure of what happened the previous night. He’d wake up to popped stitches and a clean house. His console would be working and his parent’s gadgets would stop targeting him. Journalists would refuse to go near the house and his mom’s soup would be amazing for once. His room would even be tidy though he was sure it wasn’t when he went to bed last night, or was it?

Later still, he’d gaze at his bedside table and at the numerous thank you and get well cards sitting on top of it and notice something off amongst the gifts though he couldn’t put his finger on it. The new ghostly plants and green-and-yellow plushie would go unnoticed for weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, this thing kind of escalated.
> 
> Hope you like it! Feel free to comment and criticize! It is much appreciated!


End file.
